A Fate Worse Than Death
by JeffC FTW
Summary: Disgraced and expelled from service to the Dominion, a certain young Vorta suffers imprisonment and as a spoil of war. His fate is worse than any of the forms of death his predecessors endured. Contains graphic violence.


**This is darker than what I normally do - I usually blend dark and light together - but Keevan suffers much worse in here than you've seen me put him in. Takes place during the Dominion War and then its ending. Keep in mind that this is a TRIGGER warning. This is in no way related to previous oneshots I have done of Keevan, not even the ones of him and Weyoun.**

 **Disclaimer: None of this is my creation except an OC at the end.**

If anyone looked at him, they saw young beauty. The Vorta were made to look seductive and mysterious - the Founders created them to lure potential allies so they could not get out once they got sucked in. That was what he saw in himself as he was well aware of how those he had negotiated with looked at him; he always noticed how the other person seemed to relax and never take their eyes off his face. The eyes were said to be mirrors to the soul, piercing through your every being and reading your every thought. Looking into your eyes was one of the greatest weapons to convince your enemy to lower their defenses. He had been one of the Dominion's best agents, one of the youngest and promising, currently in his fourth incarnation - and he might be the last because the cloning facilities were destroyed by Legate Damar's Cardassian rebellion on Rondac III.

Weyoun was the last one. Which meant that he might not ever come back. He remembered how he and the ambassador clashed and butted heads on occasion, how Weyoun looked down at him and thought that the younger Vorta would be better than him - which was true. Keevan knew better than most of his people ever did. But he masked his true feelings like a good servant to save himself.

Saving himself was what cost him in his last life. His ship malfunctioned in the nebula after securing the Cardassian border from Starfleet and paid the price. Remata'klan had been right that they knew nothing about the uncharted matter; Keevan kept him at Third because of his constant questioning of his commander, but at that time he had been right.

The low supply of white was not his fault, however. But its destruction had been the cause of his own decision to let his natural curiosity get the better of him - natural curiosity being a trait in every single one of his race, but it seemed he was the one who got the blunt of unlucky blows.

Keevan remembered the first time he was activated, young and eager to please his superiors, but not that long after, he remembered...feeling something for the count of lives lost upon reviewing field reports and carrying the order out. His insides had wrenched that it made him frightened because Vorta were not supposed to exhibit emotion as the Jem'Hadar were made to fight, not to care. Keevan was "made" to die over and over for the Founders until they terminated his line for whatever reason; this applied to ALL Vorta.

A price to pay for eternal life.

All because of the sweet story of how a wounded Founder had been saved by a primitive family of Vorta, thousands of years ago, and in exchange, he and his people changed them into more intelligent, sophisticated beings.

Keevan knew that it was all too good to be true. He just knew it.

And for that, he _hated_ the Dominion's order.

His first incarnation suffered emotionally, because emotion always had to be handled first above everything else. The heart made you weak, said the Founders, given they were nothing like the solid beings they dealt with out of revenge for persecution. This happened when the first Keevan fell in love with a fellow Vorta. Daiya was her name, and she stirred something in him that was riveting. She was dangerous and quick-thinking as he was, so everything and striking up conversations in every situation - he saw drawn to her; how could he not be?

Unfortunately, he let himself go too far and got them both caught. Actually, she betrayed him, broke his heart. She had been set up as a test by the Founders, and as a result, his first incarnation was killed right away before the next was activated.

Keevan 2 had learned his lessons in loving another who wasn't the Founders, however, he had developed what his fellow Vorta would call a "survival technique", which had not yet been realized by the next clone to follow. He proved to be the worthy Field Supervisor that he deserved to be, but not when it came to his time to die. He had been held hostage by Starfleet officials in Dominion space, his Jem'Hadar all killed by them, but he was not allowed to live and therefore activated his termination implant by his own hand right in front of those who thought they could use him to get to the Founders. He never wanted to kill himself, but he had no choice.

It was by his third lifetime that Keevan ultimately decided he was tired of dying for the Founders for whatever reasons, involving the incident with Captain Sisko's team and his own white-deprived Jem'Hadar. He could not take dying in that cave and isolated, alone...his people had suffered too much, pretended everything the Founder gave them was what they wanted when it was NOT. The order of things was an illusion.

He allowed himself to be taken in as a prisoner of war; no Vorta was ever fit to serve the Dominion if they committed a treasonous act as he had. But what use was Keevan if he had been killed by monsters? He was no real purpose for his so-called gods, his mind cruelly told him. He was just a replaceable tool ready to be discarded if he no longer functioned for their use.

Keevan 3 was about to be traded by an unlikely team of Ferengi for an elderly female captured by the Dominion when one of them accidentally shot him over the dispute of a reward amount cheated. "I HATE Ferengi..." were his last words before he died. If the Founders saw this, or any of the other Vorta, they might as well laugh at him and say he deserved it.

What Keevan 4 endured upon activation was a fate far worse than death. Stationed with the Female Founder on Cardassia as well as Weyoun, he remembered kneeling before them both, both hardly pleased with him for his predecessors' faults.

"Allowing yourself to become enamored with one of your own, becoming a traitor and setting your own soldiers for a massacre," Weyoun stated coldly as he looked down at the younger Vorta, his eyes telling him he had won in proving himself more worthy of the Founder than Keevan ever would be, which the latter begrudgingly accepted in his mind, "you're a disgrace not only to me, but to all of our people."

Keevan clenched his jaw and glared up at the ambassador, returning the Founder's emotionless gaze without a flinch.

"You live only to serve the Founders, not yourself."

"By giving my life over and over again like a living hell," he finally stated, earning a jab behind his back from the phaser rifle of one of the Jem'Hadar. The Female Changeling herself gracefully stepped forward and knelt before him, her smooth fingers grasping his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"Your tongue ought to be cut out for your defiance," she hissed. "But your punishment for your failures will be dealt with accordingly, and not in that manner. The Cardassians are our allies, have given so much that we have yet to return to them in satisfaction. It appears, Weyoun," she said, halfway turning her head upwards to her favorite servant, "we have their first gift."

Keevan remembered gulping but keeping himself frigid and emotionless, refusing to look at Weyoun anymore as he pondered his new fate - before he was hauled to his feet, hands remaining cuffed behind him as he was led out of the Founder's office towards a group of Cardassian soldiers. The sinister glee on their faces was unmistakable as he had the horrid feeling wrenching in his gut as to what would become of him now.

He remembered it all like it was yesterday; Vorta never forgot a single detail. His mind was crushed from the first time his sensitive ears picked up one of the reptiles asking who would go first, but he never learned any of their names and titles, not that he ever cared. One held him in place as another two or three tore his clothes from his body, stripping him down in the utmost degrading manner he would receive. Afterwards they parted and stood to look him over. Keevan had stood completely naked before them, trying to cover his most valuable parts up to no avail. The Cardassians laughed at his humiliation and feeble attempts to save his dignity. He remembered the lewd comments they gave him, ranging from his smooth, hairless skin to his skinny physique and tight muscles, before one decided he would go first; it was the one who had asked the question firsthand.

Another man held Keevan down on the floor, holding his wrists above his head so he didn't struggle. He'd learned a long time ago that struggling only made matters worse. However, he'd bared his teeth and hissed when fingers ghosted over his chest and abdomen, caressing his skin and light muscles, pinching his nipples cruelly and hardening them. His hips and thighs were squeezed, his pelvic area groped until his body betrayed him, and he hated himself for it. One hand fondled him between his legs before probing further and finding the very place where he knew he was doomed as the starting point. Keevan closed his eyes and turned his face away, not wanting to look as his first violator freed himself from tight leather trousers and brought himself to Keevan's unprepared entrance, stretching him open and making him whimper in pain. His heart thundered and cracked over and over with each thrust against his form. The laughter of the others echoed in his rattling ears in a haunting echo that would remain for the rest of his life.

"Look at his face - he _likes_ it."

"Yeah, he's nothing but a piece of meat for us now, gentlemen. His 'gods' don't need him anymore. He's a cheap whore now, just for us when we feel like it."

Whore... _whore..._ WHORE...

That ugly word never stopped repeating in his mind. Keevan felt the tears reach his broken heart as the truth settled into his being. Yes, he was a whore. He had been for the Dominion until they no longer saw him fit to serve them, gave him over to their allies. He felt filthy and used, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would accept the fact he would be used to satisfy the appetites of these monsters whether he liked it or not.

Keevan screamed when a sharp pain took him off-guard, forced him to bolt upwards only to get struck across the face, sure to leave a bruise. Forcing his eyes to open, he saw blood coming from not only between his legs, but on the external part at the base. The patch of hair had been unceremoniously ripped off by hand, bits of blood clinging to the roots. The Cardassian raping him disgustedly looked at the fuzz ball in his hand, spat and threw it aside before turning his attention back to the suffering Vorta. "Now, where were we...?"

He felt wet heat enter his body not that long later, never to be removed and staining him forever. Keevan wanted to cry because he had never expected he'd be in this kind of predicament. Disowned by his people, stripped of his rank and duties, his reputation tainted, and now raped by conquered allies...

Now he wished he'd have activated his termination implant while he had the chance, only it had been removed before he was brought before the power who enslaved him.

This was a fate worse than death.

Three more times he endured this before he was thrown into a cell. He was still naked and bruised, still feeling everything. After the first finished his turn, another turned him over onto his stomach and raped him from behind; his buttocks still ached both inside and out that he now had difficulty sitting down. His nipples, thighs, hips and pubic area still tingled painfully from being roughly handled; having his pubic hair torn off by hand was more than his pride could bear. Keevan gingerly sat down on the metal slab, shivering even though the Cardassians kept the temperature at their desired temperature, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself, and began to sob. If only those damned creatures gave him clothes.

His mouth felt sour with the aftermath of the bitter, acrid taste of the one he had given orals to; while he did, a fourth also took him from behind but the way the first did, giving him the opportunity to slap and fondle Keevan's backside and savor his firm, smooth flesh; that alone made him almost choke on the horrible, thick thing in his mouth and throat. The taste that followed made him vomit and bruised for it.

"Please..." he'd choked out, curling into himself and wishing it was all over, but his tormentors laughed and continued what they did best before he was placed in this room now.

He'd lost track of the time, but it was an eternity that he remained in here, eating very little and losing weight to the point of becoming a skeleton. Cardassian appetites loved supple, so to see him made him receive worse treatments than he did. Sometimes when he'd be cleaned that he'd be forced to have sex with any of them afterwards, his wet nude body kissed and licked at times even. Keevan by then learned to not cry in front of his violators, just behave and let them enjoy his body like it was a sweet treat. There were times he'd gasp in surprise when snake-like tongues flicked at his small nipples, then his navel and finally his pubic bone and slim manhood. There was not one part of his prized body that was not favored for their pleasure; it made him loathe himself even more. And the defilers took great relish in the young man's pain.

Damn the Founders.

Damn them for making him this way. Damn them for taking away his people's freedom before they came along.

Damn them for aligning with sex-hungry reptiles like the Cardassians.

Damn them for condemning him to the life of a _whore_.

He could not stand to even look at himself in a mirror anymore, nor could he eat anymore and wanted nothing more than to die from starvation at least. Keevan had once been high and proud of himself, always charming to get what he wanted, and look at him now: scared, hungry, disgraced... _violated_. Reduced to a powerless sex toy. His life meant nothing to him now. The irony that he tried to live and now wanted to die, never come back, never make a difference...

But then, one day, he was greeted with light coming into the cell as the door opened. If any of his masters came for him, then he was ready to give his body -

"Keevan?"

He froze and stood where he was, stock-still and horrified as he recognized the face and voice. Quickly and terrified, he turned away and ran for the corner, curling up and covering his private parts as much as he could. He didn't want the familiar face to see him like this. "Keevan, my goodness, is that really you?" Elim Garak asked, bordering on a gasp. "I never thought I would find you again, and like...this." He finished his sentence with a gesture to Keevan's stiff but shaking form in the cell. "What have they done to you?"

"He's been raped, Elim."

That second voice... _female._ He blinked and looked up to see her beside Elim Garak, the Cardassian he'd held hostage on that planet with Captain Sisko. Garak must be enjoying his pain as Keevan had ordered him held until he had his captain and the doctor to save his life. The girl - she was Cardassian, too, dressed in a dressing gown of a healer, apparently. "Teila -" Garak started.

"Don't start with me," she snapped. "I know you hate him, but look at him. I'm a doctor, so let me take care of him."

"My dear, your mother is a surviving member of the dissident movement and left you to my charge now so you can help rebuild our broken planet!"

"You might be my guardian now, Elim, but I'm a woman now, so let me care for him. He's been treated like an animal long enough. I haven't lost my faith in rebuilding our planet." The woman huffed and stalked his way, kneeling in front of Keevan, but he didn't want anything to do with her. She sighed. "Keevan, it's okay. My name is Dr. Teila Lang. I'm going to take care of you now. You're not going to be in here anymore."

He might have been in here for a year, his body broken and his mind ruined with memories of the pain and humiliation, but he was still able to tell truth from lie - and he saw that this Cardassian female was offering him help. He wanted so much to refuse her help because he didn't deserve it; he still wanted to die here, because what was going to happen to him now? He might become a prisoner of war, uncomfortably in a Cardassian camp that could be established. "Then you can help me by killing me," he said softly, coldly, looking into her eyes and almost sneering at the tenderness. His heart was too hard for any form of forgiveness, but on second thought, she wasn't responsible for what happened to him. She was actually offering him help.

And her smile was real. Genuine. "Death won't come to you. You're going to be with me because there's nothing for you out there now. The Dominion surrendered, our planet in shambles and needing to be rebuilt from scratch. Those men who did..." She gestured over his nude, quivering body before bringing that hand to tenderly cup his cheek. He winced at the gentle contact. "...this to you are gone now. You won't be treated like that again. Come with me now, please."

Keevan saw no more sense in arguing with her. He found himself looking past her at Garak. The Cardassian tailor-spy had an unreadable expression, but the contempt was still there, though it should be obvious he wouldn't mistreat Keevan the way he had been. He looked back at Dr. Lang - or Teila, as she asked him to call her - and finally gave her a small smile of his own and stood with her, allowing her to cover his shoulders with a thermal blanket and lead him out of the prison he had been kept in for so long. He flinched at the light that had been ripped from him, and there was the smell of death and ruin coming to his nose. The old Cardassia was gone, the war over and the Federation won. Everyone was working to rebuild what had been destroyed. Which meant he had to find a way into this new world which scared him as he had taken his first step out into the unknown with a very compassionate woman - a member of an old ally-enemy race - beside him.

 **This is one of the finest pieces I think I've done, even though it's darker than usual, and I really felt for Keevan. :( So, the only character I own, as it turns out, is Dr. Teila Lang, the apparent daughter of Professor Natima Lang, who was Quark's former Cardassian love and a member of the dissident order from the show. Lang had no known family members or a status of being married, but either she lost her husband before she met Quark or she just never married and therefore had a daughter alone.**

 **Before anyone asks, I don't know if I will do a sequel to this, so don't get your hopes up. You just never know. Anyway, read and review. :)**


End file.
